In The Night
by Lorenzo Mellal
Summary: After going missing and found by Scott, Stiles begins to notice strange things about himself, very strange and disturbing things that s him wary of himself. Meanwhile, Sam is struggling with normalcy and being a witch. Something dark it making it's way to Beacon Hills. With lines drawn, alliances broken and trust no longer there. A new guest takes interest in Stiles. VampStiles!
1. Chapter 1

_**After going missing and found by Scott, Stiles begins to notice strange things about himself, very strange and disturbing things that s him wary of himself. Meanwhile, Sam is struggling with normalcy and being a witch. Something dark it making it's way to Beacon Hills. With lines drawn, alliances broken, trust no longer there, and some still dealing with the aftermath of the Kanima and The Argent's attack, can they pull themselves together to fight it. Meanwhile, one of the residences in Beacon Hills has taken a shine to Stiles.**_

 _ **Rated M just because mention of blood, graphic violence, drug use and language. I do not own Teen Wolf.**_

 _ **(Chapter 1)**_

Stiles blinked rapidly as he opened his eyes. _Why the hell do I feel like I was ran over by a truck?_ He thought as he tried to clear his blurry vision, which the light in his face was making any better. _I feel worse than when Scott hit me on the forehead with his baseball bat._

Focusing slightly, he could hear mumbling voices. Very familiar mumbling voices. He looked above him and saw three blurry figures standing there. Narrowing his eyes, he really wished that he had something to help him see better…or that he could move but his arms felt like lead.

Groaning irritated to get their attention but it didn't work because their conversation continued. "…No Boyd, okay, I refuse to touch one of them." He heard a familiar voice. "We have Stiles back, so let's leave what we saw where we found it."

There was a derisive snort. "You mean where we found him?" he heard and for some reason, he knew that he had just been gestured towards meaning they were referring to him. _Found me where? What are they talking about?_ His nose wrinkled at the scent of wet dog.

"That doesn't mean anything, Boyd!" Stiles blinked as his vision began to clear and he found himself staring up at the face of one of his best friends. He caught a hint of muddy brown eyes glaring ahead of him, tanned skin, curly black hair and a long sleeved red shirt. Scott McCall, one of his best friends. "We're just lucky we found him when we did."

"I agree." Stiles glanced over and saw Derek's third werewolf, Boyd, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and a impassive look set on his face. It surprised Stiles because he and Boyd didn't have much interaction so his presence was a little out of character, he briefly wondered where Derek was. Eyeing Boyd's features, Stiles would have snorted, the stoic look like he practiced in a mirror. "Maybe he can tell us what happened."

"That wasn't exactly what I meant." Scott sighed out while scratching the back of his head. He couldn't help but wonder what would have happened to Stiles if they hadn't found him when they did but that wasn't his main concern…it was how they found him. "We can leave what happened to them to the police."

"To who?" Stiles croaked out without a second thought. He winced at the grating sound of his voice, it sounded as if he's been chewing and swallowing broken glass. And his throat was burning from lack of hydration.

Two pairs of eyes turned to focus on him. Boyd's were slightly surprised while Sam's were relieved and happy. "You're awake!" the werewolf exclaimed smiling widely and walking closer to Stiles.

The scent of cheap cologne, soap and musk filled his nostrils when Scott leaned down and hugged him, burying Stiles' nose into his neck. It was familiar and comforting, Stiles couldn't help but feel like he missed the scent despite seeing the werewolf just the other day. Underneath the scent was the most peculiar scent that Scott's cologne couldn't hide.

Stiles's brows furrowed as he sniffed his friend trying to figure out what that scent was. He's never noticed his friend smelling like this before and it was making his stomach growl. "Uh, yeah I'm awake, but where am I? Why are you hugging me?" he questioned curiously.

Scott broke his embrace and stood up straight, while Boyd quirked a brow. "We're at Deaton's." the taller werewolf answered. "We brought you here so no one would question us." And then glanced over at Scott. "I don't know why he hugged you since you smell as if you haven't bathed in days."

Stiles blushed and glared at the werewolf for his caviler attitude. Scott rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Boyd." He ordered. "He's been missing for a week, where could he have taken a bath?"

"A lake?"

 _Wait, what?_ Stiles thought as surprise shook him. "A week?!" he gasped pushing himself to sit up in the bed and looked around. As Boyd told him, they were in Deaton's clinic but in the back. "I was missing? Where the hell was I?" he reached forward and grabbed Scott's by his arms, not noticing the werewolf wincing as he did so.

"Um, we found you in the woods a couple cities over." Scott shortly before tearing his arms from Stiles grips and resisted the urge to rub at them.

 _A couple cities over?_ Stiles quirked a brow and then that's when he heard it. It was like a thumping sound and it quickened after a moment before settling down at an easy pace. _What the hell is that sound?_ He questioned briefly before dismissing it. "A couple cities over where? How did I even get there?"

Scott turned from Boyd, who he seemed to be having a silent conversation with, to look at him. His eyes were guarded and tinted with worry. "You-you weren't in a specific city, Stiles, we found you in the woods." The strange thumping sound quickened. "And how you got here? I don't know." It slowed again.

"You don't know how I got there? What did I just wake up in the middle of my bed…" Stiles trailed off and tried to remember anything from a week ago. He remembered leaving his father's office and heading home…but he doesn't remember actually making it there and he couldn't remember anything after.

His head was starting to hurt and his throat was starting to burn. "Ugh, I can't think about this now, can someone please get me water?" he asked irritably, he'd think once he was hydrated.

Boyd stared at him blankly before grabbing the bottle on the table beside him and tossing it at Stiles carelessly. "Boyd!" Scott hissed reaching his arm forward to stop the bottle from hitting his sluggish friend but it was futile.

A hand snatched the bottle from the air. Stiles clutched the bottle in his hand and untwisted the top before placing the drink to his lips and tilting his head back. Eight swallows was all it took for the bottle of water to be completely empty.

But he was still thirsty.

Stiles tore the drink from his lips and looked up at Scott. "I need another one, I'm still thirsty, why am I so thirsty?" he demanded, his throat was burning with a desire for something but he didn't know what.

"My mom and Deaton said you would feel that way if you hadn't been keeping yourself hydrated over the last week."

Stiles's head jerked back. "Wait, your mom knows I was missing? Wait, again, does my dad know I was missing? Wait, a third time, who all knows I was missing?" He was beginning to panic. _What the hell happened? How did I go missing for so long?_

Scott sighed. "Stiles, would you calm down?"

 _Calm down?!_ Stiles wanted to yell at the top of his lunges but his mouth and throat was still dry. He's been missing for the last week, had no recollection of where he was or what happened, and he was _dirty_! But, despite himself, he didn't because of those big brown eyes pleading with him.

Once he noticed Stiles' heart beat slowed down, he regarded his friend calmly. "Are you calm?" Scott asked.

Stiles nodded his head. "Are you sure?" Boyd chimed in with a condescending smile. "You still look a little frustrated and tense, maybe we should just wait to tell him anything." There was a knowing glint in the taller werewolf's eyes.

Stiles wanted to gouge those eyes from his skull. He shook his head for a moment as a wave of heat hit him and made him slightly uncomfortable. It was becoming a little hard to concentrate.

"Boyd!" Scott snapped reprimanding causing Isaac to roll his eyes again and turn his head when his phone beeped. Seeing Boyd's attention now on his phone, Scott turned back to Stiles. "We didn't want your dad wondering where you were so we told him that you went to Los-Angeles to pick up Sam and Isaac from the air port while we tried to find where you were and it took us a while because we didn't have Sam but we got help from someone else."

"Who?" Stiles asked.

Scott seemed hesitant to answer and Stiles was stumped why that would be. Who could have helped them that would make Scott not want to answer? He glanced over at Boyd, who shrugged his shoulders uncaringly. Scott faced Stiles. "It's no one important."

There was a loud thump. _Is Scott lying to me?_ It was instinctive and he didn't know where he got it from but for some reason he felt that Scott was lying to him. Shaking his head, Stiles listened for that thumping sound but it was gone.

Boyd looked up from his phone to see Stiles staring distractedly at the wall behind Scott while the werewolf eyed him worriedly. Boyd didn't blame him, Stiles was becoming paler than usual and clammy while his eyes were starting to look a little red. "Hey." He whispered to Scott, who turned to him. Boyd tossed the cell phone to his fellow werewolf.

Catching it, Scott sent an imploring look at Boyd before looking down at the phone. He frowned reading the text, there was a hint to anger in his feature before he turned off the screen and tossing it back to Boyd. Quickly schooling his features, Scott smiled tensely at Stiles. "Hey, we're going to go get you more water, while don't you lay back?" he asked.

"What?" Stiles questioned trying to fight the yawn that wanted to make its way out of his mouth but it did. "I'm fine, no need for that."

"We'll be quick, come on Boyd." Scott headed towards the door.

Boyd followed after him but not before stopping at the threshold of the door and looked over his shoulder. "He's right, you not only smell awful but you look awful, too." He crinkled his nose and smirked when Stiles glared at him irritated.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Stiles laid back and tried to fight off the sleep that wanted to consume him. He was thirsty, hungry, irritated and hot. Sighing and closing his eyes, he decided to rest his eyes for a couple moments.

 _ **(A Week Later)**_

The skies were dreary and dark, the winds howling as gusts blew through the city kicking up debris and trash, and it was silent. Deafeningly so.

In the middle of the road stood Stiles Stilinski, staring ahead blankly, until he heard a shriek echo through the silence. He jumped and spun around, wide eyes staring in the direction of the scream. "Lydia?" he muttered worriedly before running in the direction of the scream.

Making a sharp turn into an alleyway. He ran deep into the alley, ignoring the darkness of the shadows casted by the full moon hanging high in the sky.

The whiskey-eyed boy came to a stop, breathing harshly and eyes even wider at what he was witnessing.

It was him.

It was him with his arms wrapped around the slim waist of Allison Argent. He had he dipped back, her head hanging back. His face was hidden in her neck while Allison allowed him to it to continue with her mouth wide open and eyes closed.

Stiles felt his heart pace become rapid and his mouth became dry at the sight. _What the hell?_ He wondered, appalled. He would never do something like that to his best friend, nor does he see Allison in that light.

Suddenly, his head lifted from Allison's neck and Stiles' stomach churned at the sight of the glistening red substance on his face, covering from under his nose to his chin. Stiles took a step back as he stared into the black eyes of his doppelganger, so empty…except for the glint of hunger.

And then, his doppelganger smiled, showing his blood-coated fangs. It smiled as if it wasn't holding the corpse of one of his friends or as if his face wasn't covered in blood. "What's wrong, Stiles?" _That isn't my voice._ He thought fleetingly. "Oh, that's right, you've never had a girl this close to you, let alone your best friend's ex-soulmate." The doppelganger sneered at him, his words laced with venom.

The venom instantly stung Stiles, it made him want to take another step back but his body was frozen with fear. "I-I I don't understand." He stuttered confused and horrified.

Confusion flickered across the doppelganger's face and it tilted it's head like a innocent child. "You don't?" he asked and then smiled again, this smile sent a chill down Stiles' spine. "Well, let me enlighten you."

Stiles blinked and then, everything changed.

Suddenly, it wasn't a doppelganger holding Allison. It was a wolf-like creature standing on it's hides holding a bloody Lydia Martin. Stiles' eyes watched as the creature lifted its clawed hand high in the air, showing off its long black and sharp claws.

At an antagonizing slow speed, the creature lowered one claw to the center of Lydia's throat that was on full display.

Green eyes focused on Stiles, who still hadn't moved. "Help…please." She sobbed out. "I'm scared."

"I love when they beg, don't you?" Sharp red stained teeth were shown as the creature smiled just before digging the claw into Lydia's throat and quickly removing it. A large bead of blood began to build up on the open wound. The wolf purred as it lowered it's large head down and licked up Lydia's neck, wiping away the blood. "So, tasty," suddenly, black eyes were focused on Stiles, "why don't you have a taste."

Blood flew through the surrounding air, touching almost everything within range, and Stiles, who stood with his mouth open, was openly covered by blood.

Because the wolf dug all it's claws into the center of Lydia's chest before tearing her into two.

"NO!"

Whiskey brown eyes snapped open and Stiles threw himself up. His chest rose and fell with every heavy breath he took. He looked around and found himself staring at the mirror on the opposite side of the room.

Shaken glances were shot all around the room before Stiles threw the sheets from over his legs and stood from the bed before walking over the mirror and studying his reflection. His skin was paler than normal, there were slight dark circles under his eyes and his hair was wild.

He ran his fingers through his hair. "It wasn't real, it wasn't real." He chuckled slightly. "It wasn't real, it was just a dream." He sighed relieved and gave another chuckle but as quickly as it started, it stopped and he just stared into the whiskey brown eyes of his reflection.

This wasn't the first time he had a dream like that. He had them before; almost every night since Scott and Boyd found him and brought him home, but it was never that graphic nor had it ever featured Lydia or Allison dying.

 _That_ shook him to his core.

Suddenly, the quiet air was filled with the shrill ringing of his phone. He jumped and turned in the direction of the phone, which was on the nightstand next to his bed. _Scott_ flashed across the screen and Stiles stared for a moment before turning away and ignoring the call.

He wasn't avoiding Scott but he wasn't in the mood to talk over the phone. After the phone stopped ringing, Stiles glanced over at it in time to see the time flash across the screen. "When did it become seven?" he groaned. It felt as if he hadn't gotten any sleep.

For a split second, Stiles thought of not going to school today and staying home. His dad was at work and wouldn't be back until after school ended, he wouldn't know. Plus it was the first day of school; no one would care if he missed the first day.

After a while of staring, Stiles' stomach growled and he pushed himself away from the mirror and walked out of his room. "Why do I feel as if I haven't eaten in weeks?" he wondered as he walked downstairs and into the kitchen.

He grabbed a bowl, a spoon, a box of cereal and a glass of water. He sat and poured his cereal as he grabbed the newspaper his dad must have grabbed and read already. His eyes scanned over the headlines and frowned. " _Four teenagers have gone missing in the span of two weeks, there is still no lead on the four besides their identity listed below."_ Stiles recognized two of them, neither of them he knew personally but just seen them around their high school. Tilting his head, Stiles continued to read, not noticing a figure standing at his kitchen window before it disappeared.

After finishing his breakfast, he headed back up to his room and walked into his bathroom. _If I shower, I'm going to be late but I can afford it._ He shrugged off his clothes before turning on the showerhead and stepping underneath it.

His aching body soothed under the harsh pressure of hot water hitting his tense body. _I haven't felt this tense since tryouts during freshmen year._ He thought with a sigh and closed his eyes.

Almost immediately, a flash of his nightmare reared its head, displaying the monstrous face. His eyes snapped open and his breath hitched. He shook his head and began to scrub at his body, suddenly feeling dirty.

After cleaning himself off, he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel from the rack. Wrapping it around his waist as he walked over to the mirror. It was fogged up so he wiped it away enough for him to see his reflection.

Staring into the eyes of the reflection. He looked tired and that's because he was. _God, what the hell is wrong with me?_ He wondered.

 _ **(Elsewhere)**_

Also, in a bathroom, Sam stood staring into his reflection already dressed. His black hair was shaved into a fade haircut and with his long straightened locks of dyed auburn color making his sage green eyes and olive skin stand out. He wore a loose camouflage sports jacket, a tight black t-shirt, denim pants torn at the knees and thigh.

It's been three months since he's set foot in Beacon Hills after leaving for Italy with Isaac to visit his aunt Mary-Jean. Over the time he was gone, he hasn't been in contact with anyone with the exception of Stiles but it was only occasionally.

He didn't actively avoid speaking to anyone, sometimes he missed calls or he was too busy. He spent the entire summer touring around Italy and getting back to being himself. He promised himself that he'd let go of everything that happened here so he could enjoy his summer.

A smile tugged at his lips as he thought about it. Most of his time was spent with Isaac, someone who he could completely drop his walls around and just be himself, sometimes he spent his time with his aunt, who owned her own boutiques, and he even had visited the ancient Roman Gladiatorial arena with Santos, though Isaac tagged along.

He also picked up the new hobby of photography; he bought a camera and found himself enjoying photography as much as he enjoyed his arts. He has numerous pictures of their trip, some of them were of Isaac when he wasn't looking and some were just of the terrain.

Stepping away from the mirror and walking out of the bathroom, Sam walked into his bedroom inside his grandmother's house. He was planning on moving into the apartment about Santos's shop but... _how can I leave the house my Grams loved?_

Sighing, Sam looked around his room at some of the open boxes scattered across the floor. The urge to clean was great but he wouldn't have the time. He sat on his bed and pulled on his black shoes, glancing down as he did, he caught sight of something he hadn't touched in three months.

His grandmother's grimoir- _his_ grimoire.

Sam picked the book up from the box and felt the hard cover of the book. He boxed it to move before he left and hadn't thought about it since. Just touching the book he could feel the old yet comforting magic radiating from it, his grandma's magic along with the thousands of spells, potion ingredients and personal entries engraved into it.

" _This grimoire was started by my great-grandmother._ " He remembered his grandma saying. " _She passed it down to my grandmother, who passed it down to my mother, who passed it down to me._ "

" _Was it always this thick?_ "

A smile full of pride graced his grandmother's face and green eyes twinkled in delight. " _Not before I got my hands onto it, oh I wish you could have seen my grandmother's face when she saw the book for the first time after two years of it being in my possession, she was practically beaming with pride!_ " Her gaze softened. " _And I can't wait to see how much you put into this book."_

Sam dropped the grimoire back into the box and kicked it, sending it sliding to the other side of the room until it hit the wall beside his closet. He felt guilty by not withholding the goals his Grams set for him. _She wanted so badly for me to be the best witch I could be but…being a witch doesn't bring anything but…_ he trailed off thinking about everything that happened to him since becoming a witch. _I failed, I can't be that witch she wanted me to be._

The witch stood from his bed and walked over to his desk where his black backpack was hanging off the back of the chair. Gathering all his notebooks, his art supplies and his camera supplies. He went to walk out of the door but paused next to his nightstand.

Turning, he leaned down and opened the drawer before pulling out a medium sized Ziploc bag holding five rolled up blunts of marijuana.

The last time he touched marijuana was before he was a witch, when he went through his rebellious stage. _It's not exactly bad; it's no more of a drug than alcohol is._ He thought as he placed the Ziploc bag inside his camera pack and zipped it closed along with his backpack. _I probably won't need it for school but…just in case._

Downstairs, Isaac Lahey sat at the island in the middle of the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal, already dressed and ready for the day. The blonde glanced up and nodded when he saw his friend walk into the kitchen.

Sam took a seat beside him and grabbed the newspaper from the counter. "Good morning, ready for today?" he asked as he pulled the pennysaver from the paper and tossed the rest into the trash. Opening the drawer of the island, Dreux placed the papers inside and closed it.

Isaac shrugged his shoulders as he chewed his cereal and swallowed. "Nothing interesting other than the newspaper, there are four teenagers missing, two went to our school but the other two are from San-Francisco."

Frowning, Sam reached over the table and grabbed a banana from the bowl. "Oh." He said blandly.

The blonde watched his friend from the corner of his eyes before dismissing it and finished his cereal. "I talked to Scott yesterday." Isaac stated as he got up from the island and walked over to the sink before watching his dish.

"You did? When?"

"When you went to see Stiles."

"Oh." It was silent for a moment and Isaac wondered if he had done something wrong. He knew that Sam had been inactively avoiding his friend's messages and calls but he didn't really think the issue would last long over their trip away. "Well, I couldn't talk to Stiles anyways, he was asleep and hadn't been getting sleep for a few weeks from what his dad told me."

"What's wrong with him?" Isaac asked bluntly.

Green eyes glared up at him. "Nothing is wrong with him, he's probably having a hard time adjusting to what happened all last year." He defended his friend. He knew how it felt to feel knocked off his feet by what happened to and around them.

Isaac nodded with a roll of his eyes. He got the Stiles was human and defenseless but sometimes they made it seem like he was made of glass. Deciding that's the kind of thought that would get him in trouble so he changed the subject. "Well," he glanced up at the clock, "we'd better get to school."

Grateful for the change of subject, Sam nodded. "Alright, are you ready?" he asked.

Isaac nodded. "Yeah, let me just get my phone from upstairs." Sam watched as the werewolf walked out of the kitchen and stood from his seat himself but paused when something caught his eye out the window. He saw his neighbor, Mrs. Candace Carpenter. A woman his grams's age with shoulder length red hair and big blue eyes, sitting on her back porch on the swing chair. She was holding a leather jacket in her hands and was crying. Not sobbing but Sam could see her wiping her tears away.

Mrs. Carpenter was always a nice woman, even though her husband was a grumpy old man, she was pleasant and brought him a lot of baked pastries since his grams died. Sometimes he would be there to answer the door and thank her, other times she'd use the key he gave her to get in his house and leave some behind for him.

He walked out of the back door and off his back patio before crossing from his yard to hers. She didn't turn to look at him, probably, because she see or hear him, so when he made it onto her porch, he coughed.

It startled her from her thoughts and she quickly turned her head and wiped her eyes before addressing him with a smile and red eyes. "Samuel, it's so good to see you back, when did you get back? How was your trip? Where did you go again?" she asked kindly but her voice was a little hoarse.

Sam was hesitant to approach the subject of why she was crying so he indulged in her attempt to take the attention away from her pain. "I got back yesterday, my trip was great, I had a really good time." He told her. "And I went to Italy."

Mrs. Carpenter's eyes dropped down to the leather jacket. "Yeah, that's the place…you know my husband took me to Italy for our first anniversary." She told him causing Sam to frown and glanced down at the leather jacket. Her husband, Phillip Carpenter, wore a jacket just like…Sam looked back up at Mrs. Carpenter, she never seen her sitting out here with Mr. Carpenter. "Mrs. Carpenter…where is Mr. Carpenter?" he asked hesitantly because he was kind of afraid to know the answer.

Fresh tears swelled up in her eyes but she closed them. "Oh, dear, Phillip…he-he died two months ago." She whispered. "He had a heart attack and died in his sleep." She instantly began sobbing filled with sadness and pain. "And as if that wasn't bad enough, my grandson went missing recently!"

Sudden and unexpectedly, pain struck Sam like lightening and it made him stumble back. "Oh, Mrs. Carpenter, I…" tears swelled up in the witch's eyes and he bit his bottom lip to stop a sob from escaping his mouth. Pain swarmed around in his chest…and he had no idea where it was coming from.

Did he want the man to die? No but he was never close with Mr. Carpenter like he was with Mrs. Carpenter. Was it sadness for the woman? The only people she had was her husband, her daughter and grandson who, despite being one of the biggest dicks at school, visited her a lot. "I'm so sorry." He apologized.

Mrs. Carpenter stopped sobbing after a moment and wiped her tears away. "Honey, you didn't cause any of this, there's nothing for you to be sorry for."

"I know I just…" He paused when he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Isaac standing there with wide eyes. "I-Isaac."

"We-we um…have to get to school." The blonde glanced between he two awkwardly.

Sam looked conflicted and Mrs. Carpenter immediately caught on. "It's alright, Sam, I will be fine and here with my daughter." She promised. "Go to school."

The witch hesitated before nodding. "Alright, I'll see you after school?"

"Of course, dear."

Once they were inside Sam's car, Isaac turned to him as he wiped away the tears on his face. "Okay, what was that?" he asked confused. "What happened?"

Sam sighed. "Her husband died and her grandson was one of the guys missing." He told Isaac as he started the car with a twist of his keys.

"Oh." It was quiet for a moment as Sam pulled off. "Were you close with her husband?"

"No, not at all." Sam stated.

Isaac's brows furrowed with confusion. "Then why the tears?"

Sam mirrored his face as he glanced at the blonde. "I-I don't know." He mumbled. "I mean, I like Mrs. Carpenter a lot and I don't dislike Mr. Carpenter but hearing of his death shouldn't have made me feel that way." It was weird and strange but once Mrs. Carpenter started crying, it was like he shared her pain.

Blue eyes stared at him for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. "Maybe you cared a lot more than you thought." He guessed.

"Yeah, maybe." Sam mumbled as he turned a corner.

 _ **(End)**_

 _ **Hey everyone, here's another attempt at creating a sequel to my Teen Wolf Fanfiction Sam Mellal. I'm going to take my time with this one to make sure it stays on track with where I'm trying to go with the plot.**_

 _ **Anyways, tell me what you think of this chapter. About what happened with Stiles, about what happened with those missing kids, about what happened to Sam at the end.**_

 _ **See you next chapter where Lydia, Scott, Allison and new faces will be making their appearances.**_

 _ **Ja ne.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**(Chapter 2)**_

Allison Argent stared at her reflection with a vacant look on her face. Her fair skin was a little tanner from being in the sun all summer but nothing major or too noticeable. Her hair, once beautiful, luscious and long was now cut to her shoulders. She ran her fingers through her dark brown locks.

 _It's been three months since I've seen everyone._ The only person she kept in touch with was Lydia, who came with her and her father on their trip.

Spending the summer away, with Lydia, was exactly what she needed to get back to herself…kinda. Her mother's death still weighed heavily on her mind, not to mention the fact that she almost killed two teens and injured a friend before kidnapping them.

 _I made so many bad decisions._ She lowered her gaze down to her the sink, shamefully. _I let Gerard manipulate me and turned me into the worse version of myself._ The smartest decision she may have made was deciding to stop being a huntress, like her dad retired being a hunter. _From now on, I'll be normal._ She felt less confident about that last thought.

Despite how much being a huntress hurt her and caused her family pain, it also became a part of who she is and it was a little sad that she had to let go of the part. _A necessary sacrifice._

Turning away from the mirror, Allison walked out of the bathroom, fully dressed and headed down the stairs where, in the kitchen, Chris Argent was sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and a bagel.

The brunette walked into the kitchen and grabbed her father's bagel off the plate. "Thanks for the breakfast dad, I'm going to head off the school now." She said taking the butter knife from the butter on the counter and quickly wiped butter onto it before placing the butter knife down and immediately went to exit.

"Hold on there." Her father's voice made her stop at the threshold and slowly turned around, apprehensively. He pointed at the seat across from him. "Sit." He ordered.

"Dad, I'm going to pick Lydia up from her house."

"I'm sure Lydia can wait five more minutes so that I can talk to you." He pointed at the seat again and smiled when his daughter let out a sigh before taking a seat but she didn't look at him, only took a bite of the bagel. "Allison, look at me."

Allison sighed and lifted her head to look her father in the eyes.

Chris eyed her for a moment and opened his mouth to speak but hesitated. "How are you?" he asked.

Allison blinked. "I'm fine." She said a little confused.

Chris nodded his head. "Good, good, uh…" he trailed off, glancing away for a moment. "I just wanted to make sure that you were alright to go back to school on the first day, I mean, I did say you could stay home."

"And I told you it was fine, I want to go." Allison smiled appreciatively.

"Most teenagers would be happy to stay from school."

"I'm not like most teenagers." She countered.

"You're right and that's kinda what I want to talk to you about." Allison raised a brow as her father regarded her seriously. "I know that you have a crossbow hidden in the trunk of your car."

Brown eyes widened. She completely forgot that she had that crossbow inside her trunk. "Dad, I forgot I-"

Chris waved his hand dismissively. "I know, I know but what I wanted to say was…I want you to keep it inside."

"You want me to keep it?" _Strange._ When they got back to Beacon Hills, he all but ordered her to grab every piece of weaponry she had hidden in her room and to bring it to him where he locked it up inside his room. "Why?"

"I know that we've given up the hunter lifestyle," he began, scratching at the scruff on his chin unintentionally, "but being a hunter doesn't just go away because you don't want the life anymore, I know from personal experience that it can be hard to leave after making enemies."

Allison's mind immediately flashed to Derek and his pack. She frowned; she hadn't been thinking much about them when she decided to come back to school. "You think that they might try something?" she asked.

Chris sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. "I don't know, maybe, but they might not." He added opening his eyes. "Which is why I want you to leave it hidden in your trunk and only use it when absolutely necessary, understand?"

"Yes, dad."

Chris gave a small smile. "Get out of here." He said turning back to his newspaper and coffee.

Allison stood from her seat and exited the kitchen; she grabbed her car keys from the hook in front of the door and left the house. Once at the trunk of her car, she opened it and lifted the ground of the truck where her crossbow was lying underneath in a deep hiding place. She stared at it for a moment before dropping the ground of the trunk back over it.

 _ **(Beacon Hills High School)**_

Isaac walked through the halls of Beacon Hills High and grimaced. Nothing changed in the time he was away. _I was kind of hoping this place fell apart while I was gone._ He snorted loudly as he turned a corner and his gaze immediately landed on the only other werewolf in the hall.

Boyd.

He felt a genuine smile grow on his face as he walked over to the boy. He wouldn't tell the other werewolf outright but Isaac missed him and his blunt sense of humor. "Hey." He greeted once he made it to Boyd's locker. Boyd head was basically in the locker as he scrolled through his phone.

Boyd pulled his head out of the locker and once he saw who was standing there gave the blonde a smile. "Isaac." They clasped hands and threw a one-arm hug around one another's shoulders before pulling away. "I would have came over to see you but my parents were busy and I had to watch my brothers."

Isaac nodded his head. "It's fine, I mostly spent time unpacking all the things I brought from Italy." Going to Italy, he barely had enough things that could fit in one suitcase but coming back, he needed three more. Sam's aunt Mary-Jean spent a lot of money on him, new clothes and all, after Sam denied needing new clothes. _My closet is full of things I haven't even worn yet, thanks to Lydia._ Was his excuse.

"Oh, so you had fun then."

"Yeah, it was cool." It was probably the most fun the blonde had since his mom died. Spending time with Mary-Jean, who was cool and funny, and Sam getting to know Sam even better while venturing through Italy was so much fun. "If you want to know more about it, Sam took up photography and took lots of pictures."

"Oh yeah, I think I might actually want to see, think he'll hang some of them up in _Dreux's._ " _Dreux's_ was Santos's coffee/book shop named after his only son. When they came home from Italy and Sam had seen the huge sign with his legal name in big blue and white lights; he was currently refusing to return Santos's calls. _Santos will be back in town in two days._ He could already feel the impending headache of the argument that was bound to happen.

"Probably not but you can just come over to the house, we're still leaving there." He shrugged, when Santos suggested Sam living in that apartment Isaac could tell Sam was hesitant and knew he wouldn't do it. Sam was predictable like that. "How was your summer?"

Boyd opened his mouth to answer when a chime went off in his hands. As Boyd turned his attention to his phone but it wasn't from whom he was hoping it was from; Isaac watched as the werewolf's face furrowed in confusion. "Hey, Isaac."

"Yeah?"

"Have you talked to Erica over the summer at all?"

That question made Isaac frown as he thought about it. He remembered messaging Erica a couple times and never receiving a response; he always assumed she was too busy with her family to get back to him but would eventually. "No, but I think Sam might have, why?" he asked.

"Because, I've been messaging her all summer and haven't gotten a response." Isaac raised a brow before chortling.

Boyd narrowed his eyes at the blonde. "What's funny?" he demanded.

"How whipped you are." Isaac teased.

Boyd gave him a blank look and slammed his locker door shut. "I'm going to find Sam." And with that, he walked away with Isaac following after him in search of the witch. "Where do you think he is?"

"Class?" Isaac shrugged. He hasn't seen Sam since they made it to school, he thought he went looking for Stiles or Lydia but he hasn't seen either of them today.

"Didn't the two of you compare schedules?" Boyd asked slightly annoyed.

"Uh…"

Boyd stared blankly at the blonde. "I-" he began but immediately stopped and shook his head as the school bell rang signaling for them to them to get to class or be late. "Forget it, I'll ask him later." Isaac shrugged his shoulders as Boyd walked away from him and quickly followed after him.

In a class students were already beginning to file into the class and taking their seats. There were twelve tables lined up in four rows before the large desk where a woman stood at the chalkboard behind the desk, writing her name down.

Stiles Stilinski took his seat in the fourth row on the left side of the room and the third row in the back, next to the window. Almost immediately, Scott McCall took the seat next to him. "Hey, I've been looking for you all morning, where have you been?" he asked dropping his backpack between them.

The werewolf glanced away, hesitating. "Uh…" His eyes were soon drawn to one of the many students that walked through the door.

Stiles glanced in the direction Scott was staring in and rolled his eyes when he noticed the object of his friend's attention. "Really, Scott? Please tell me you weren't stalking Allison around the school." He begged dramatically.

Allison took a seat on the other side of the room, taking the first row; she sat stiff and actively avoiding looking anywhere in class besides at the book on the table in front of her. Scott tore his eyes from her and shot Stiles a look. "No!" he exclaimed.

"Really?" Stiles asked doubtfully.

"Well…I wouldn't call it stalking, I was just trying to talk to her." Scott explained. It had been hard trying to talk to someone who was avoiding you. Scott knew Allison only half meant it when she told him to move on but he was completely serious when he said he'd wait for her.

"Well, sorry to tell you buddy, but here in America…they call that stalking and it won't matter why you were stalking her if her father catches you anywhere near her." Stiles stated.

"They gave up being hunters."

"Oh, right, because they're suddenly going to throw away all their weapons after finding out what hides in the shadows and leave themselves defenseless, come on Scott, you can't actually believe them." Stiles certainly didn't. While he had to bad blood in regards to Allison, he'd rather not lose his best friend because he got to close to her while her dad was around. "All I'm saying is be smart about this and give her the space she asked for."

Scott wanted to argue that but stopped and frowned. Allison asked for space and he thought maybe three months was space enough but with the way she wouldn't even look at him, he was obviously wrong.

Stiles glanced up as the last of the students filled in the class; he caught sight of Boyd and Isaac walking into class. The two completely ignored Allison as they walked past her desk and took the last table in the back of class, a row away from where he and Scott sat.

They all turned to the front of the class when the sound of chalk rapidly tapping against the chalkboard reached their ears. Standing there was a brunette woman with a kind smile. "Hello, class, my name is-"

"Wait!" They all heard someone exclaim. Everyone turned to the door as a young woman rushed into the room with a piece of paper in her hand and breathing labored as she stopped next to their teacher and handed her the piece of paper.

Taking the paper, the teacher read over it before giving a brilliant smile. "Alright, Ms. Clarke, you can take a seat here in the front." She said gesturing towards the unoccupied seat next to Allison, who looked as if she'd rather sit, alone but didn't voice her opinions.

The girl gave a small smile before heading over to the seat instructed and took it, not acknowledging Allison.

"Alright, as I was saying, my name is Jennifer Blake and this is English class, as you may know." Her smile widened. "I am so happy to be spending this school year as your English teacher and hope that we can get along." She moved around the desk and sat down. "I want you all to pull out a piece of paper and pencil, I want you to write down some things you did over the summer, how it changed you, how much fun you had, where you went, etc."

Stiles could see that not everyone was enthused by the task, him included, what were they? Ten? But he pulled out a piece of paper and pencil anyways. As he began to write, he thought about some of the things he did over the summer. _Does wondering around a forest, lost and can't remember how it happened, count? Probably not._ He decided after a second.

Giggling echoed in his ear, it was melodic and echoing; lifting his head, he looked around to spot where the giggling had come from but no one except their teacher was smiling. Frowning, he turned back to his paper and was about to continue when he heard it again but it came from the left of him.

Glancing up, he caught sight of a figure standing across the street. Pausing, he turned his head to the windows to spot the figure again but saw no one standing there. _What the hell?_ He wondered. _Am I seeing things?_

He hoped it was just lack of sleep.

 _ **(Elsewhere)**_

Sam Mellal walked into his Psychology class where the class was already filled and Mrs. Miller was sitting behind her desk. Green eyes immediately sought out a place to sit, his gaze immediately landed on a familiar head of strawberry blonde hair belonging to his best friend, Lydia Martin, who he hadn't seen or talked to in three months.

Lydia hadn't noticed him as she was staring into a small mirror in her hand but it wouldn't matter as someone was already sitting in the seat next to her. Turning away, Sam turned to the next free seat next to someone he didn't know. _Well, that's the only open seat left._

As he moved a pair of blue eyes snapped up and looked at him. It didn't deter him as he took the seat next to the unfamiliar boy, obviously new, and immediately pulled his backpack in his lap before going through it.

Mrs. Miller was a nice woman and she taught them Civics, he knew that she wouldn't have them doing any work on the first day of school but instead would have them listen to her talk so he thought he'd get caught up on his sketching. "Where are all my pencils?" He muttered quietly as he felt around only to realize he left them on his nightstand. "Damn."

That's when a hand landed on his shoulder but the feeling it sent quaking through Sam's body made it feel as if he had been punched in the gut. Visions blurred through his mind: blank blue eyes, blood, screaming, laughing and a feeling he could only describe as death.

As quick as the feeling hit him, it was gone even faster.

Snapping his head to the right, he found himself staring in curious blue eyes. "Uh, I have a pencil if you need it." The boy said holding up his free hand.

Sam glanced at the pencil and then glanced at the boy's hand, which was still on his shoulder. The boy seemed to have gotten the hint and dropped his hand from Sam's shoulder. "Thanks." Sam muttered taking the pencil from the boy's hand.

"Hmmph." He heard and glanced a row a head of him and found himself staring at the back of Lydia's head. He raised a brow but didn't say anything. There had been a reason that he and Lydia hadn't talked over the summer, mainly her going on vacation with Allison.

They had a huge argument about it before she stormed away leaving him fuming until the bush he was standing next to burst into flames. Rolling his eyes, he ignored her and focused on the boy next to him. "So, uh, my name is Sam Mellal." He greeted evenly, trying to hide the negative feeling that was building inside him.

The boy lifted his head and smiled, a smile that normally would have dazzled Sam had he not felt death radiating from the boy. "Theo Raken." He said holding out his hand.

Sam's eyes widened slightly as he stared down at the hand before quickly calming down.

But Theo already seen the reaction and looked down at his hand curiously. "I wash my hands." He chuckled. "I, also, won't bite." He assured.

"Sorry, it's uh…just a thing with me." Sam apologized but didn't sound the least bit sorry. To his own ears, he sounded guarded.

Theo raised a brow. "Scared of germs?" he asked.

"Among other things."

"Ah."

They settled into an awkward silence as Sam turned away from him and immediately began flipping through his sketches, staring down at each of them blankly. He was trying so hard to not focus on Theo; the feeling radiating from him was beginning to make his stomach churn and making it hard for him to breathe. _What the hell?_ He thought glancing at the boy in the corner of his eyes.

Sighing, Sam closed the sketchbook and put it away; he couldn't focus on anything, he felt antsy and needed to move. Rolling his eyes, he stood from his seat and grabbed his backpack before heading over to where Lydia was sitting with some guy, who was trying to talk to her.

The witch tapped his shoulder causing him to turn to him. Sam recognized him to be one of Jackson's friends and scoffed. _Only Jackson could have friends that would try to hit on his ex while he's gone._ Sam offered a tight smile. "I need to talk to her, can I borrow this seat?" he asked, of course he wouldn't be returning the seat.

The boy gave an annoyed sigh before standing from the seat and heading to sit next to Theo. Sam took the seat and exhaled through his nose, happy to finally be away from the boy. "So, he wasn't interested?" he heard and sighed, preparing himself, before turning to Lydia with a brow rose. "That boy," she jerked her head in Theo's direction, "he wasn't interested or he wasn't gay?"

"I wouldn't know Lydia, because my first thought when sitting next to any attractive stranger isn't to immediately try to screw them." He smiled sardonically at her before dropping it. "What made you even think that I was interested?"

Lydia shrugged nonchalantly before turning back to her book. "I don't know, I mean, so many things could have changed in three months, I'm just trying to catch up."

"Are you being facetious?" He didn't understand what was going on. He wasn't even angry with Lydia but it was as if he could feel it radiating off her.

"Big word."

"Oh, we're doing this, Lydia?" he hissed quietly and leaned over, glaring at the side of her face as she stared into her compact mirror. "You're the one who went on the trip with Allison, who btw shot and stabbed me."

Lydia shot him an irritated glance. "Derek's entire pack tried to kill me."

"And they didn't!"

"Because of Allison!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't see her taking on that raging blonde werewolf."

"I did."

"I wasn't talking about Erica."

"Then who else…"

Sam groaned and leaned back in his seat. "Lydia, stop, alright, you know damn well who Isaac is." He stated annoyed.

"Well, whether I may know or may not know who this person is irrelevant." Lydia flipped her long hair over her shoulder.

They were quiet for a moment.

"Did you sleep with him?"

Sam choked on his own saliva and coughed into his elbow. His cheeks tinted red when everyone glanced into his direction, he waved them off and glared at Lydia when they turned away. "No, I didn't sleep with Isaac!" he snapped.

"Then there was no reason you should have taken him to Italy with you."

"Uh, other than being alone with Santos and my crazy ass aunt? I'd say the fact that he's my friend and roommate is a pretty good reason."

"Oh, he's a friend now?" Lydia sneered at the thought.

The idea struck him. "Oh god, please don't tell me you're jealous of my relationship with Isaac, come on!"

Lydia looked scandalized. "Jealous? Of him?" she asked as if the idea was the most ridiculous thing she ever heard. "No, not jealous, pissed that you actually ignored me all summer? Yes!" The bell rang signaling for them to move to their next class.

Before Sam could respond to Lydia, she stood swiftly from her seat and grabbed her bag before storming away.

Rolling his eyes, he also stood and grabbed his bag. As he walked into the aisle between desks, he almost ran into Theo, who looked up at him and gave a smile as he kept walking. Sam narrowed his eyes before shaking his head. _This day is already starting off bad._

Walking into the halls, Sam headed to his next class. As he walked, he thought about his conversation with Lydia. Sure, he knew she'd be upset about him ignoring her calls but didn't think it'd be blown out of proportion like that or that he'd get angry.

 _What is going on?_ He wondered, _this is almost exactly like what happened with Mrs. Carpenter._ But he still didn't understand what was happening.

Suddenly, he felt tired and...thirsty? Hungry? He frowned and stopped at the corner of a juncture. "Hey, Sam." He heard and looked up.

Walking toward him was Stiles and Scott. Sam's eyes lingered on Scott for a moment before turning to Stiles and smiling. "Hey, guys." He greeted.

Scott, also, gave a smile before it faltered as he took in the witch's posture. "Are you alright? You look kind of tired." He pointed out. "You haven't been getting any sleep either?"

"Either?" Sam raised a brow.

Stiles scoffed. "Yes, I've been having problems sleeping this leaving me very tired during the day." He threw his hands in the air annoyed.

Suddenly irritated himself, Sam glared. "That could have something to do with your disappearing act you pulled a week ago, how about trying to not do that again, eh? Scott or I might not be there to save your ass next time."

Scott and Stiles blinked, taken aback by their friend's attitude. They glanced at each other confused before turning back to Sam. "Uh, okay, what crawled up your ass today?" Stiles asked.

Frowning, Sam's brows furrowed. "I-" the feeling of annoyance suddenly drained from his being and he gave Stiles a apologetic look. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that." He apologized.

"Ok, have you been taking your meds correctly?" Stiles questioned.

"Shut up, Stiles." Sam muttered with no real heat behind it. "Look, I have to get to my Pre-Calculus class." He stated.

"Oh, I have that too." Stiles said.

"Great, I'll meet you there but I wanna stop at the restroom." Not giving either any time to respond, Sam walked away in a hurry.

Stiles turned to Scott. "What was that about?"

"I don't know, do you think this has to do with last year?"

Sam got out of hearing distance so he didn't hear the reply. He turned the corner and rushed down the hall, the further he got away the less tired he felt. _What is happening?_

 _ **(End)**_

 _ **Hey, so I know this chapter wasn't all too ecitable but it's needed, even if for just the small things. Like with Sam: he met Theo, he talked with Lydia and something's happening to him…can someone guess?**_

 _ **Also, where is Erica? And what is Theo up to?**_

 _ **Next chapter will be a lot more excitable as we see more into what's happening with Stiles. Some of you may have already guessed, some may not have, some are right and some are wrong but I'm not giving the outright answer until later. Also, we get to see what happened when Stiles went missing.**_

 _ **Anyways tell me what you think and I'll see you next chapter.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**(Chapter 3)**_

In the classroom with Pre-Calculus written on the chalkboard behind a balding middle aged man with large blue eyes and a beige suit on. He stood before his students rambling about what? Allison couldn't tell, she couldn't bring herself to pay attention.

Allison glanced beside her and saw her best friend looking down at her nails, rarely sending glances up at their teacher, Mr. Schmidt, when he'd look in their general direction in a vain attempt to act as if she were listening.

Chancing it, Allison looked over her shoulder and saw Sam sitting in the left beside Boyd and behind Stiles. The witch wasn't even acting as if he were paying attention as he went at the sketch paper on his desk with it having his complete and undivided attention.

Stiles, on the other hand, was nodding off only to catch himself and try to stay awake. Allison felt a pang of sympathy for him; he his skin was becoming paler than this morning when she spotted him. His hair was wild and unkempt, there were dark circles under his eyes and he could barely stay awake. _How has no one noticed this?_ She glanced back over Sam but he wasn't paying attention.

She glanced over at Boyd and quickly turned around to face forward when she met his eyes staring at her. More than any of them, Boyd intimidated her. He was quiet, even his movements were quiet and that wasn't something she expected from someone as big as him.

Her mind immediately went to the crossbow hidden in the secret compartment of her trunk. She was sure that her father had a talk with Derek Hale about their truce and his pack but she wasn't sure that his pack would even follow his orders. _They were trying to escape them when we found them in the woods._ She thought and wondered why they stayed. _Well, one stayed, where is Erica?_

In the back of class, Boyd didn't take his eyes off Allison. He didn't know why he felt tense when he caught her staring in their direction, at Sam and Stiles. _Maybe it's because Sam risked his life to help us escape._ He felt a little guilty when he thought about it, though he didn't make Sam come to their rescue and Boyd was pretty sure he did it more for Erica, he was still sixteen and had been shot. _He certainly took it like a soldier._

 _Speaking of Erica._ He turned to Sam and touched his shoulders. The witch dropped his pencil and blinked rapidly before turning to him with a confused look. _Weird._ Boyd thought briefly. "Hey have you talked to Erica lately or at all?" he asked.

Sam raised a brow. "Uh, the last time I talked to her was two days after she left for New-York and didn't hear anything from her afterwards." He shrugged his shoulders. "I thought it was weird but then thought that maybe she was just enjoying herself."

"Yeah I thought that too, for a while, but the fact that I haven't heard and no one else seems to have talked to her I'm getting a little worried about her." He frowned. "What if something happened to her while she's out there?"

"Like what, Boyd?" Sam questioned with a frown. "It's just the first day of school, some people do take a little longer before coming back to school and I'm sure that's exactly what she's doing." He felt his phone vibrate and went to pull it out. "I can't explain her not answering your phone calls but maybe she lost her phone, try calling her parents."

"I don't have their number."

"Thus prompting me to ask, what would you like me to do to put your concern to rest?" Sam asked. "You want me to track her?"

"You can do that kind of thing right?"

Sam stared at the werewolf for a beat before snorting. "You sound like a clingy boyfriend." He commented.

Boyd looked at him blankly. "We're just friends."

"Yeah, sure, of course you are." Sam wasn't convinced. He's seen Boyd and he could certainly see why Erica would be physically attracted to him. He let his gaze roam Boyd's muscular arm before shooting him a pointed look.

Boyd rolled his eyes at the witch. "Not interested."

"Damn." Sam chuckled and smiled at Boyd. "Fine, you bring me something of Erica's and I'll do a locator spell for you."

Boyd felt as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders. "Thank you, do you want me to bring it to your hosue after school?"

"Sure." Sam went to turn back around but paused. A small grin grew on his face as he eyed Boyd from the corner of his eyes. "Did you know Erica kissed me before?"

Boyd growled in annoyance at him. Sam's shoulders shook with laughter at the reaction.

Ahead of them, Stiles wasn't paying attention as he stared down blankly at his desk while trying to stay awake. His right hand was gripping the pen in his hand tightly. "So, did you talk to Scott today or did you hide?" He blinked and looked up; he stared at Lydia's and Allison's back. "Can you even hide from a werewolf?"

Stiles felt panic when he heard that, loud and clear, and looked around to see if anyone heard. No one else heard, they were still looking up at their teacher bored as if Lydia hadn't just stated that Scott was a werewolf.

He turned back to Lydia as Allison did the same. "I'm just trying to spare his feelings, I told him that I didn't want him to wait for me and talking to him…being close to him again, I don't think I could-"

"Keep your hands to yourself?" Lydia finished earning a sharp look from Allison. "What? If that's what you meant, I won't judge you, if Jackson was still here we'd still be having sex."

"Even though you're broken up?"

"Break up sex is one of the best kind."

Allison let out a breathy laugh. "Why did I know that would be your response?" she asked rhetorically.

Stiles stared a few seconds longer before dropping his gaze. _Were they whispering?_ He thought shocked. _And I heard them from back here while no one else…_ He trailed off when a loud shout of pain gained everyone's attention in the halls.

Mr. Schmidt turned to the students as they turned to the door. "Stay." He ordered and left the room but of course none of the students listened and stood from their seats. Stiles glanced back at Sam and Boyd, who were also curious and standing.

Stiles followed after them and blinked when he found Mr. Schmidt kneeling next to a blonde girl in front of the lockers. Stiles looked at the locker door and saw it was open with blood on it while the girl had a gash on her forehead. "Whelp, looks like the school is getting sued." He heard someone say.

"Some of these lockers always does that."

Stiles turned back to the girl and that's when he smelled it. Something sweet, something delicious, something almost unbearable to smell and it was coming from the girl. Stiles jaw slackened slightly as his eyes followed a bead of blood that trailed down the side of her face down to her jaw.

A dry burning pain exploded inside Stiles throat causing him to fall back against the lockers and clutched at his throat earning the attention of his peers as some surrounded him. Sam and Boyd kneeling next to him while Lydia and Allison stood behind them. "What's wrong, Stiles? What is it?" Boyd asked.

Stiles began to breath rapidly through his nose as he tried continued to squeeze at his throat turning his face from pale to red. Sam went for his wrist and tried to pry them away from his throat. "Stiles stop! You're choking yourself!" Sam snapped.

Stiles didn't listen; he didn't even look at them. He continued staring at the girl who was bleeding and staring at him in surprise. "Where's the nurse?" He heard Mr. Schmidt demand.

"We'll take care of him." He vaguely heard someone say but he couldn't tell whom. His attention was solely on the girl…who was bleeding. He felt stinging pain in his bottom lip for a moment before it was gone as quick as it came.

Boyd forced Stiles to his feet and began to drag him down the halls. "The boy's locker room is right around the corner." Boyd stated. "Let's take him in there."

Sam nodded as they turned the corner and immediately pushed open the boy's locker room. Fortunately, no one was inside so Sam had Boyd seat Stiles on the bench in between the aisles of lockers. Stiles sat there slumped for a moment, his hands still around his neck but no longer squeezing.

The witch handed Boyd his phone. "Sheriff Stilinski's number is in there, call him." Boyd nodded and Stiles sat beside his friend. "Stiles, are you okay? What was that out there? Panic attack?" he questioned worriedly. He never seen his friend do something like that and he was almost terrified by the look in Stiles eyes as he choked himself.

"I-I…I don't know but don't call my dad, I can drive myself home." He said reaching into his pocket and pulling out his keys, almost as if on autopilot.

"Uh, no you can't and if you try I'll kick your ass." Sam stated as he snatched the keys from Stiles' hands. "You'll wait for your dad to come get you and I'll have Scott drive your Jeep home."

He, suddenly, felt different. He stood and lifted his head. "I'm going wait in the office for my dad to pick me up, I don't think it's a good idea for me to drive."

"That's what I just said, Stiles." Sam frowned, he had been expecting for Stiles to put up an fight, a losing one, but a fight nonetheless.

"Right, I'll go then." He turned and walked away.

"Wait, Stiles, I'll walk with you." Sam stood and followed after him grabbing Stiles's arm once he was close but quickly dropped it as if he was burned. Images flashed rapidly through his mind. He saw some Stiles standing between the legs of some woman, his mouth at her throat.

 _Lust and fear_ slammed into Sam causing him to stumble away from Stiles, who didn't stop to see his friend's reaction, and continued out of the locker room.

Boyd hung up and walked over to Sam, having watched the entire thing. "What was that?" he asked the witch, who had his hand touching his neck in a similar way Stiles had before.

"I-I don't know but I…" He trailed off, touching Stiles felt worse than touching Theo. _What's with the extra sensitivity with me today?_ He wondered but shook his head. "But it was bad and it had something to do with Stiles." Sam struggled to get out as he got himself together.

"Do you think it has anything to do with him disappearing last week?" Boyd questioned.

"I don't see how it could." Sam muttered as he pulled himself together. "He was only missing and he doesn't remember it, how much could it effect him?"

"Well, what just happened isn't something that happens often, right?"

Sam sighed and scratched the back of his head as he tried to figure out what was wrong with his friend. "Listen, whatever it is, Stiles and I will handle, don't worry."

"I wasn't." Boyd denied causing Sam to roll his eyes.

In the nurse office, in the back, the blonde girl was lying on her back. Her forehead wrapped with bandages and her pulled back in a ponytail. Her eyes were open as she tried to keep herself awake as the nurse instructed after informing her that she had a concussion.

That's when she heard the door open and close. She looked through the doorway where she could spot a shadow move outside of her door. "Nurse Wilkins?" she called tiredly.

She didn't get a response and when she went to call again, she stopped when she saw someone stop in the threshold of her door. She frowned. "Stiles Stilinski? What are you doing here?" she asked.

Stiles walked closer allowing her to get a better look at him, she sat up and swung her legs over the bed. Her eyes widened when hands flew to her throat once Stiles was close enough and pulled her in.

Their lips smashed together causing her to gasp in shock but it also gave Stiles the opportunity to shove his tongue in her mouth. She let out a small groan and brought her hands up to Stiles' chest before pushing but it didn't work, he didn't budge.

She jumped and let out a moan when a hand gripped her right thigh tightly. She stopped pushing and began kissing him back, moaning when he pushed her back against the bed and climbed on top of her, finally breaking the kiss.

He leaned back on his knee, staring down at her with whisky brown eyes, his hands went to his belt and began to undo it and jerked his pants down enough to reveal his length. He grabbed her panties and slowly pulled them down, never breaking eye contact with her and once they were off, he put them in his pocket.

He leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss again. Her arms flew around his neck pulling him closer. Stiles hands roamed her body. She hummed when his warm hands slid under her top and snapped her bra effortlessly then began to fondle her breast. Her tweak her nipples causing her to break the kiss and let out a low moan.

Stiles began kissing at her neck while his right hand went to her thigh before trailing under her skirt. "Wet." He muttered as a he slid a finger into her.

"Yes." She whispered leaned her head further back, giving him a lot more access to her throat. _That smell, that smell is back, God she smells great._ His stomach rumbled quiet and his kisses on her throat became a lot rougher and, much to her delight, he added three more fingers inside of her, pulling them in and out fast.

He pulled away a little and noticed three red marks across her collarbone. He could taste it on his tongue, whatever it was that smelled so good. He ignored the whine of disappointment when he pulled his fingers out and position himself at her opening before thrusting in swiftly. "Ah!" she moaned loudly.

Her wrists were suddenly trapped above her head as Stiles began to thrust in and out of her. The sound of flesh smacking against one another over their groans and moans of passion. Stiles lean back but didn't stop before grabbing her jacket and button down shirt before ripping them open, allowing her bouncing breasts to be on full display for him. "Oh, you rip-ah! My favorite shirt!" she moaned out.

Stiles ignored her as he played with her breasts for a moment before leaning back over her and went straight for her neck. That piercing feeling in his bottom lip was hurting a lot more this time. He opened his mouth; displaying fangs to her neck, and it have instinctively.

He bit her.

That sweet smelling blood filled his mouth and it tasted even better than it smelled. _God!_ He gripped her hips tightly, holding them down and open wide as he sped up while she groaned in pain and pleasure.

"Stiles, I'm so close." She whispered lost in the pleasure.

Sam didn't respond as he continued to drink from her neck until she came with a low moan and with one last thrust he did the same.

Stiles pulled away and stared down at her as if he just woke up from something. Her head fell to the side and her breathing was heavy. Stiles brought his hands up to his lips and touched his fang, hissing when it pierced his finger. "W-what just…" he trailed off before hopping off of her. "Shit!" he began to gather himself together.

After he did, he turned to the girl and saw she was still lying there. He stormed over to her and glared as he gripped her arm and forced her to sit up. "What are you doing? Get up and dressed before someone walks in!" he hissed.

She glared at him. "You're the one who came here and fucked me like some porn story plot."

Stiles narrowed his eyes and leaned closer so that he was staring her in the eyes. "Get up and get dressed now, alright? Just forget this all happened."

She stared in those eyes and for a moment she heard his words echoing in her head. Her eyes dilated and she began to stand. Stiles was shocked as she did what he told her without speaking. Once she was, somewhat, presentable. Her jacket now closed to hide the fact that her shirt and bra were torn.

Suddenly, she stopped and blinked confused. "What are you doing here?" she asked him.

"Uh…"

 _ **(Meanwhile)**_

Scott sat in his US History class with Isaac sitting behind him listening to his teacher, Mr. Jefferson, ranting. "Huey Long was a powerful Louisiana governor and U.S. senator. A successful lawyer, he rose through the ranks of the Louisiana government to take over the state's top post in 1928. The charismatic Long dominated virtually every governing institution within Louisiana, using that power to expand programs for underdeveloped infrastructure and…" he was interrupted by the sound of knocking on the door.

The door opened and Scott's eyes widened at who he saw standing there. The person under scrutiny of the werewolf walked up to the teacher and handed him a piece of paper. Mr. Jefferson read it. "Alright, Ms. Rogue, you can take the seat next to Ms. Clarke."

Alexis Rogue glanced in Scott direction and sent him a wink before taking her seat next to Ms. Clarke, who offered a kind smile and Alexis nodded her head.

 _Shit, does Sam know she's here?_ Was all Scott thought. He knew there was a possibility that there was some bad blood between the two witches, Stiles explained some of what happened between them and her part in the capture of Sam, Erica and Boyd. _But she did help us find Stiles._ He had to get her help because Sam was still in Italy. _But why is she here?_

Alexis ignored the werewolf staring at her in favor of listening to the teacher.

Isaac, catching the wink and the way Scott was staring at the witch, nudged him in the ribs with his elbow. "What was that about? Who is she?" He asked once Scott turned to him.

"Uh…Alexis Rogue." He answered hesitantly. "She's a-"

"A witch, yeah, I know." Isaac interrupted curtly as he sent his own stare at the witch's head before turning back to the omega. "But why is _she_ here?" he demanded.

"I-I…how would I know?" Scott responded.

The blonde narrowed his eyes at Scott. "I hope you wouldn't, Sam told me everything about her and everything he told me let's me know she shouldn't be trusted." He stated. "We should probably keep a distance from her."

"No arguments here." Scott muttered eyeing Isaac curiously. "What did Sam tell you about her?"

Something flashed in those blue eyes that were too quick for Scott to decipher what it was before they narrowed into slits. "Everything." He answered in a tone that meant the conversation was over.

Scott frowned. Normally, he wouldn't be left in the dark about anything that concerned Sam or Stiles but he wasn't blind enough to not see that there was a distance between he and Sam, one he didn't know how to mend.

Sighing, he turned forward and stared at the board.

Ahead, sitting at her desk, Alexis continued barely listen to her new teacher's boring lecture when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She glanced to her right at the girl sitting beside her. "Yeah?" she whispered.

The girl looked slightly nervous but gave a smile. "My names Emily Clarke." She introduced herself quietly.

Alexis stared at her for a moment before turning to face forward. "Alexis Rogue." She returned after a moment.

"So, you're new here, too?"

"Yup."

"Oh."

Alexis glanced at the girl in the corner of her eyes. She, Emily, was biting her bottom lip nervously. _She looks like one of those cheerleader types._ Alexis scoffed internally as she studied the girl. Her hair was long and wavy, back and fell to the middle of her back, her skin was almond brown and her eyes were dark brown. Her lips were bare pink and dressed in a black dress that hugged curvaceous her body. _Simple yet elegant sort of look._

For a moment Alexis wondered why the girl was even talking to her, she looked like the kind of girl that hung around other girls like Lydia Martin.

Alexis turned back to Mr. Jefferson and continued to listen to his boring lecture. All thoughts of the girl sitting next to her disappearing from her mind.

 _ **(Elsewhere)**_

" _Hey."_

" _Uh, hey, hi." It was silent for a moment; it was an unsure silence. Uncomfortable. The people speaking didn't know each other, which Stiles knew. "So, uh, are you new here?"_

 _The sound of chimes went off. "New? Well…kinda, I've lived here before but moved away when I was eight." The sound of chimes followed her statement and made him realize that it wasn't chimes he heard. The person, the woman, was giggling but it was melodic and alluring._

" _Oh." There was another pause of uncomfortable silence. "Well, welcome back, I'm Stiles."_

" _Stiles? That's a peculiar name." The chime-like giggle went off again. "At least I won't feel bad about not remembering."_

" _Why's that?"_

" _We obviously haven't met, that isn't a name one would forget."_

" _Yeah." He sounded nervous. "What brings you back to Beacon Hills?"_

 _Silent, But this time, it was contemplative. As if she was wondering whether or not she wanted to answer. "I'm on a search."_

" _For something or someone?"_

" _Both…and I think you can help me find them."_

Stiles eyes fluttered open, a stinging pain ringing in the back of his head causing him to groan closing his eyes again and place a hand on his forehead. "God." He muttered weakly before reaching his other hand to the right for the bottle of water on the nightstand in his room. He felt around and frowned at the grainy texture he felt. Turning and opening his eyes, he blinked when he saw the base of a tree with his hand clutching up dirt.

It didn't register in his groggy mind for a moment but when it did, it had him sitting up where he lied and looked around, while trying vainly to ignore the pain in the back of his head. He saw that he was lying against the tree in the yard near the lacrosse field.

He frowned deeply as the echo of a conversation bounced around in his head. It was distant and distorted, trying to reach for it was like grasping for smoke. Trying to listen to it was like trying to listen for a dog whistle being blown.

He was so focused on trying to remember more about the conversation that he didn't notice someone heading in his direction until said person smacked him in the shoulder. He looked up and stared into angry green eyes. "What the hell, Stiles?" Sam snapped. "I've been looking for you for the last fifteen minutes until someone said you were asleep out here." The witch raised a brow. "What are you doing sleeping out here?" he asked.

"I-I, well, I felt better so I called my dad and told him not to come but I decided to take a quick, ya know, nap…out here…" Stiles lie was horrible and the look on Sam's face told him that he didn't believe it.

"Stiles…" Sam began but trailed off with a sigh. "Well, your dad is going to be coming anyways."

"What? Why?"

"Because that girl, Lindsay, that hit her forehead off the lockers earlier…she was found dead in a stall in the girl's bathroom."

Thunder crackled in the distance as rain, drop by drop, slowly began to fall from the grey clouds above.

Stiles stared at Sam blankly for a moment.

 _Horror._

 _Guilt._

 _Worried._

All of which he should be feeling but he couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed. _I-I didn't kill her! She was still alive when I left her._ He thought back what happened earlier and for a moment he was floored by what happened. _I…drank her blood like some kind of vampire…I had sex with her; practically…_ He trailed off not wanting to finish the thought.

"I…wow, what happened?" Stiles asked feigning alarm.

"She fell down the stairs and broke her neck." Sam eyes turned inward as he thought about all the blood on the floor. The fallen dead body of the girl, lifelessly yet still bleeding. _Just like at the police station that night._ His mind traveled to the night he and his friend were held hostage in the police station by Matt Daehler. "It was like seeing all those dead bodies of the policemen."

The normal numb feeling Stiles felt when he thought of that day failed to make its appearance. He knew those police officers most of his life and the thought of them being dead made him feel nothing, which wasn't the case months ago…or even three weeks ago. "Wh-what's happening now?"

Sam snapped out of whatever trance he was in and focused on Stiles. He opened his mouth to think when something caught his attention. Stiles, thinking he was looking behind him, looked over his own shoulder. "What?" he asked turning forward. "Sam?" He called again.

"Uh, well, it there was a death so they're sending us all home, why is there blood on the color of your shirt?" Sam questioned confused and concerned.

When he fed, he hadn't done it messily but he had done it with his clothes on…he hadn't even thought to check his clothing. His jacket had been taken off so when he pulled it on and zipped it up, it hid most of the blood but…not the smudge on his collar. Stiles cleaned down at it and then back up at his friend. "I, uh, I…"

"Stiles, why is there blood on your shirt? Did something happen to you?" Sam demanded. "Was it from earlier? Did you get close enough to get Lindsey's blood on your?" He asked hopefully.

Immediately, he latched onto the story. "I must have been, I mean, we were both in the nurse and we ran into each other." He lied easily and if Sam thought about it for a moment, he'd probably poke holes in the story. _But Sam doesn't have a reason to distrust you of all people._ A dark part of his mind whispered in his ear. _You're probably the person he trusts the most._ Stiles watched as relief filled those green eyes before arms were thrown around him and pulled him into a hug. A _tight_ one.

As soon as Sam's arms touched around Stiles's shoulders, his entire body tensed and he squeezed tightly as the sense of death was staggeringly powerful but he didn't let go. "When I saw that she was dead and that you weren't in the office waiting for your dad like you said, I got worried I thought…shit, my mind immediately went back to everything we had to deal with last year…my mind flickered back to when I had to watch that senile old bastard Argent beat your senseless while I was unable to help…"

 _Fondness_. He finally felt something familiar and for the witch holding onto him tightly. He lifted his arms and wrapped them around Sam's waist. He pulled the witch closer and shoved his face in Sam's neck. Inhaled deeply and another feeling filled him.

Feeling Sam's body pressed against his and his nose brushing the pulsing vein in Sam's neck. He opened he shifted slightly, his lips brushing against Sam's neck purposely and pulled back some; his mouth opening, revealing sharp and deadly fangs.

 _ **(End)**_

 _ **So, you get a glimpse into Stiles at the end there and let me tell you…don't think that anything is about to stay a secret or so calm. It's about to get dark and even…a little fun to be honest. We're going to see the dark side of Stiles and I mean actually DARKSTILES this time, not him being controlled by some fox spirit.**_

 _ **Also, Erica…is Boyd's concerns really valid? Do you think something is wrong with Erica?**_

 _ **Alexis Rogue is back and Scott has a little history with her, can you guess? One of you already have. (One of my fave readers btw.)**_

 _ **Also, Stiles won't be the only one to tap into his dark side. ;)**_

 _ **Now, here are some few responses to some comments.**_

 _ **HeartlessNobody13: Well, Theo…he obviously sees Sam won't be an easy target so expect for him to aim lower. Speaking of Sam's family…they're going to come into play very soon. And actually, since Grateful-rain, already guessed…his vision came from his new ability, Empathy. Though, you're not far off on that last part.**_

 _ **Grateful-rain: You're correct. I feel that becoming an empath will lead to some very interesting situations as I've seen in some other television shows. I was going to make him a telepath but decided against it or there would be no mystery. And yes!**_ __ _ **Stiles as a main character is definitely making this one of my fave sequels. As for Sam and Lydia…they'll get over it.**_

 _ **Also thank you to guest and tredd furia kingsglaive FFXV.**_

 _ **Comments make me happy. Constructive criticism help me better myself. I'm here for all so I'll see you all next chapter.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Madamon650: Lol, I literally laughed after reading you comment. I won't lie, Stiles and Sam being together has crossed my mind before but that won't happen in this fanfic…but if I continue writing the series of Sam involved Teen Wolf fanfics it could happen.**_

 _ **Raffylores: Samiles? I love it. As for your question, I kinda gave it away above. Thanks for the comment!**_

 _ **HeartlessNobody: The kind of vampire I am portraying is the same breed from the Vampire Diairies and The Originals. For the last week Stiles has been in transition meaning he didn't have all of the vampire's usual weaknesses like the sun bothering him but him being hungry and thirsty did affect him. Now that he transitioned after drinking blood we'll see a lot more of the strengths and limitations of vampires.**_

 _ **(Warning: mention of death.)**_

 _ **(Chapter 4)**_

 _As soon as Sam's arms touched around Stiles's shoulders, his entire body tensed and he squeezed tightly as the sense of death was staggeringly powerful but he didn't let go. "When I saw that she was dead and that you weren't in the office waiting for your dad like you said, I got worried I thought…shit, my mind immediately went back to everything we had to deal with last year…my mind flickered back to when I had to watch that senile old bastard Argent beat your senseless while I was unable to help…"_

 _Fondness. He finally felt something familiar and for the witch holding onto him tightly. He lifted his arms and wrapped them around Sam's waist. He pulled the witch closer and shoved his face in Sam's neck. Inhaled deeply and another feeling filled him._

 _Feeling Sam's body pressed against his and his nose brushing the pulsing vein in Sam's neck. He opened he shifted slightly, his lips brushing against Sam's neck purposely and pulled back some; his mouth opening, revealing sharp and deadly fangs._

Just as he was about to latch onto the witch's neck, a loud clap of thunder startled both of them. Stiles flinched out of Sam's arms and closed his eyes in annoyance. His enhanced hearing made it seem as if the thunder clapped right next to him.

Sam looked up as rain began to fall drop by drop. "We better go, I have to go meet Isaac anyways." He said turning to Stiles, who was staring at him with a bizarre look on his face. "Stiles?" he asked confused by the look.

"Huh?" Stiles muttered after blinking once but then blinked again and shook his head a little. "Wait, what's going on?" He questioned confused but when a drop of rain landed on his nose, causing him to scrunch his face, he glanced up. "Oh, yeah, I better get to my Jeep." He ran his hands over his pockets for his keys as he walked away from the field.

He heard a jingling from beside him and turned to see Sam walking beside him holding the keys to his Jeep between his fingers. "I took them earlier, remember?" he asked teasingly. Stiles went to grab them when Sam pulled them back, becoming serious again. "Are you sure you can drive? You could wait for your dad here."

In a flash, Stiles snatched the keys from Sam's hand, faster than the witch could have predicted, and gave a grin. "I'm fine and, normally, I'd love to eavesdrop on my dad to figure out what happened," that earned him a disapproving look from Sam, " _but_ it wasn't anything, you know, supernatural so I'm gonna just head home."

Sam hesitated, unsure whether or not he should let his friend drive but before he could even make a real decision, they were crossing onto the parking lot's ground and Stiles was heading towards his Jeep. Sam would have followed but he spotted Isaac climbing into the passenger's seat of his car. He turned back to Stiles' retreating back. "Be careful." All he got was a dismissive wave of his hand. _He's going to do something stupid._ Sam sighed and winced as the rain began to pour down harder. Pulling his jacket over his head, he ran to his car and climbed inside.

Isaac, who had been scrolling through his phone, glanced at his roommate from the corner of his eyes and raised a brow. "You're wet." He pointed out blandly.

"Well, this new this called _rain_ is falling from the sky and it's very wet." Sam said sarcastically as he ran fingers through his wet auburn locks. "I'm just ready to go home and get changed."

"I wish I could." Isaac muttered.

"What do you mean?"

Instead of answering, Isaac handed Sam his phone. The phone was opened to a text message from Scott.

 _Scott to Isaac._

 _Coach Finstock is having a team meeting at Dreux's. Immediately. He's insane._

 _Sent at 10:45 A.M._

Sam sighed and handed Isaac his phone back. He kept his face impassive because he could feel Isaac's eyes on him. "Scott is right, he is insane." He muttered as he put the key in the ignition and turned on the engine. "I'll drop you off and then head home." He pulled out of the lot and took off.

Isaac hesitated. For a moment it hit Isaac that Sam didn't want to be alone and he understood that because he almost never wanted to be home alone. The last couple months he's been with Sam in Italy he was never alone, mostly always with Sam or even hanging out with his aunt for a while. "I could always skip it because, despite what Scott said, I doubt it's really important."

Green met blue as Sam turned and gave Isaac a smile. "No, no, it's fine." He assured with more confidence than he felt. "Maybe I'll stay behind at…Dreux's and have a coffee, plus Boyd wants me to do a locator spell for Erica."

Isaac frowned. "Why? Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Boyd sure seems to think so but I don't know." And that left him irritated. His instincts and senses were frayed thanks to his out of control emotions. Also, there was a part of him that didn't want to use his magic and another that wanted him to just leave that part of him alone. But a less selfish part of him told him it wouldn't hurt to put Boyd's worries to rest.

 _ **(Elsewhere)**_

The skies were already dark with thunder rumbling in the distance with lightning cackling soon after. The gusts of wind were powerful; it pushed debris, trash and trashcans into the air carrying down the street. The rain showered across the town, soaking everything and everyone in its reach.

It was as if the Gods were angered by the city's very existence and were contemplating wiping it away in a storm.

 _Such as the luck of Beacon Hills_ , Stiles thought as he walked down the center of the road, the devastating weather not affecting him in the slightest. His skin was paler than normal but he walked like a person that hadn't lost sleep and wasn't in the middle of a storm.

 _What is going on with me?_ Stiles wondered, his eyes drawn to the ground as he walked.

He drained the blood from that girl, Lindsay, after screwing her and then had practically did the same thing to Sam not fifteen minutes ago. _And I don't even feel bad._ He realized as he thought back on it. He almost sank his teeth into Sam's neck and didn't care.

Sam's body against his stirred up complex feeling Stiles didn't understand, Sam lost weight and looked slightly smaller _, almost vulnerable_ a dark whisper added but Stiles could feel the power humming under that olive skin, power that could tears apart limbs and set fire to the world on a whim of a sixteen year old boy. But above that power was also blood.

Stiles could smell it, could smell Sam and it made his body react strangely. _I mean, I have thought about what it would be like to…_ have Sam under him, panting, skin gleaming with sweat, eyes bright and begging. _But I never wanted to drink his blood…what am I?_

The answer was obvious to Stiles and even he, the one who first realized Scott was a werewolf, found it a little difficult to believe that he was a vampire. _How could I be? I wasn't bitten by a vampire._ He frowned but then remembered that he was a missing a week of memory. _Could-could I have been bitten then? And if so, why?_

His thoughts immediately shifted back to Sam, or more specifically, his blood. Stiles licked his lips as he thought about the way it smelt. _Be he tastes better than Lindsay._ Stiles bit his bottom lip and stopped walking. _I wonder how Lydia tastes or Dan-_ his thoughts were cut off by the sound of an engine.

He turned around and looked down the street but saw no vehicle in the distance. Stiles narrowed his eyes as he listened closely. _It's a truck, someone's coming this way, but they're about five minutes away._ His brain quickly analyzed and if he weren't so focused on who was coming he'd find the topic interesting.

Suddenly, it felt like tunnel vision and then there was that scent invading his nostrils. He could smell two scents and hear two heartbeats under the roar of the engine. Their scents were drenched in cologne, beer and cigarette smoke. But underneath that was an undeniably sweet scent coming from them both.

Stiles felt his body tense before he was gone.

Moving with almost no effort and in a second, he was closer to the car and could see it coming closer. Stiles' face twisted into something monstrous, the veins near his eyes became more prominent and visible as his eyes bled black and his fangs grew.

Inside the truck were two seventeen-year-old boys, two opened beers in the cup holders and a lit cigarette in-between the driver's index and middle finger. The driver was blonde while the passenger was a ginger. The ginger was staring into his phone nervously.

The driver glanced at his friend with a raised brow. "Would you calm down Jared? We're going to get home fine." He stated confidently.

"But what about the meeting at Dreux's?" Jared asked.

"We'll blow it."

"Eric."

"What? Coach is insane if he thinks it's safe to be out in this kind of weather and I'm not going there just to listen to him rant and rave, and harass Greenberg." Eric rolled his dark brown eyes and turned the wheel slightly.

"But you know that he'll notice we're not there and makes us do suicides all day." Jared whined.

Eric snorted and went on ignoring his friend. He reached over and turned on loud rock music earning a sharp look from Jared, who wanted to continue his argument, but paused when he noticed something in the distance, it was small but getting bigger as they got closer. "What the hell…" he trailed off.

"What?" Jared asked after turning off the loud music when he noticed the look on Eric's face.

He glanced at his friend. "I think someone is standing in the middle of the road." He answered.

Turning to face forward, Jared studied the road but saw nothing. Only rain. He made a humming sound. "I don't see anyone."

"Well, whoever it was, was just there." Eric stated.

"Are you sure it wasn't a tree?"

"Yes, I'm sure it wasn't a t-" Eric's shouting was interrupted by the large thud on the roof, the weight of whatever it was rocked the truck. "What the fuck?!" Glass shattered as a hand punched through it and grabbed hold of Jared's hair before dragging him out of the window.

"Shit!" Eric hissed as his truck shook and he heard his friend screaming in fright, panic and…pain. "Jar!"

"Eric!" Then there was a snap followed by deafening silence.

Slamming his foot on the break, Eric's truck came to a screeching stop before he opened the door and hopped out of the truck. He looked on top of his roof but saw nothing there. He panted and looked around the empty road. "Jared!" He yelled but got no response. "Where the hell is he? What just happ-" Once again, he was interrupted by the sound of a loud and wet slapping sound.

Spinning towards his truck, his eyes widened in shock as he stared into the lifeless blue eyes of his friend, who was staring back at him blankly. His body was sprawled across the hood of the truck, his head hanging off the right side, facing Eric. His skin was pale, his clothes were soaked and even though they were being poured on with rain, Eric could see blood pouring on the ground.

From Jared's neck.

He was so shocked he didn't notice that someone was standing behind him.

Staring.

Not breathing.

 _Hungry._

Eric took a involuntary step back but didn't touch the person, they were a hairline apart.

And Eric was still none the wiser.

After a moment, snapping out of his stupor, Eric rushed forward and pulled Jared's body off the roof with a sob of fear. "Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!" he hissed frantically as he climbed back into the car and sped off, not caring for the corpse of his friend.

Not even glancing in the direction Eric went in, the predator stalked over to the body of the dead boy. "Looks like I may have just done you a small favor." Stiles whispered with a bloody smirk on his face. "He would have gotten you killed anyways…he _did_ just get you killed." He recognized the boys; they were on the lacrosse team, who were supposed to be at Dreux's.

Which was in the opposite direction. "Had he listened to you, you'd be alive." Stiles tapped his finger on his chin and hummed thoughtfully. "That's not even remotely fair is it?" he asked. Then nodded. "You're right, he shouldn't get to skip out on the fun we're having, and I'd better go get him." He turned and began walking in the direction Eric took off in before pausing and glancing over his shoulder. "You're actually a great conversationalist."

And in a clap of lightning, he was gone.

Elsewhere, Eric rushed into his home, slamming the door close behind him and pressed his back up against it as he panted heavily. His heart trying to break free of his chest, his body soaking wet, adrenaline mixed with fear was pumping and he felt a little woozy.

After talking himself down, he took notice of his house and something in his heart knew there was something wrong.

It was still morning and his mother didn't work in the mornings.

But all the lights were turned off and he couldn't even hear a hint of his mother's favorite game show she watched in the mornings. "Mom?" he called out taking a step forward and winced when a loud squeak echoed through the house.

He looked down at his wet shoes and sighed irritated. He continued, walking carefully to, failingly, avoid making a sound. "Mom, are you here?" he asked despite trying to keep quiet.

He walked into the kitchen and sighed in relief when he saw his mother standing at the sink. "Mom, God, you scared me, why are all the lights off?" he asked after letting out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

Eric walked forward and frowned. "Uh, mom?" he questioned when he didn't get a response but his mother didn't say anything, didn't even move. "Hey! Are you ignoring me because of something I did or…" he trailed off as his mom slowly turned to him with a long, sharp kitchen knife in her hand. He gulped. "Mom?"

The woman stared at him blankly before lifting the knife high above her head.

"Mom?!"

And then brought it down.

"No!"

Blood was splattered everywhere and Eric's eyes widened in agony and pain.

His mother fell to the ground with a large gash across he neck.

He whimpered and gingerly stood from his seat, shocked beyond belief. He took a step back and he felt it.

There was a breath on his neck.

He tensed and didn't move, fear paralyzing him. Slowly, painfully so, Eric turned his head and found himself staring into a pair of pitch black eyes. It roared at him before lunging.

Eric screamed.

 _ **(Dreux's)**_

"Greenberg! What the hell do you think you're doing stuffing you're face?! Move that ass into a seat! That goes for you too, Archer! And you, McCall, get the lead out!" Coach Finstock snapped at his players as they all took seats at the tables in front of him. "Finally, now before I begin, I would like to know one thing…where…the hell…is…Stilinski!" he shouted.

Everyone's head snapped in the direction of Scott, who sat wide-eyed at the looks and stuttered out an answer. "H-he's going to be a little late, family stuff." Scott lied through his teeth and when Finstock narrowed his eyes, the werewolf knew he didn't believe him.

Luckily, Coach Finstock didn't seem like he was in the mood to yell again and continued on with his usual ranting.

On the opposite side of the shop, Sam sat with a blue thermos in his hand as he watched Finstock. "He's just one big bag of crazy, isn't he?" he muttered with a snort.

"You literally have no idea." Boyd muttered before turning to Sam. "Did you get what you needed?" he asked.

"Yup." Sam said popping the last letter of the word.

"And this spell is unconscious enough to do in public?" He asked.

Sam sighed. "Boyd, if it weren't, I would have done it in the safety of my home but the spell is simple and is done on a map." He pulled out a folded up map before spreading it across their table. He pulled out a crystal attached to a string. "The old ways of locating people." Sam added when he caught Boyd's confused glance. "Give me Erica's belonging."

Boyd handed him a necklace and Sam stared down at it before closed his eyes. He opened them and Boyd caught the faint glow to them, Sam held the crystal over the map and began swinging it. After a moment of watching it swing, Boyd watched as it dropped on New York. "Well, she's still there."

"Which means she's still with her family, I'm sure if there was something wrong or she was missing they'd called the police and she'd be on the news or something." Sam shrugged.

"I guess, but why isn't she answering my calls?"

"Maybe she's tired of denying that she has feelings for you and is playing hard to get." Sam suggested coyly earning an unamused look from the werewolf. "Or maybe not."

Boyd snorted. "Idiot." He stood and began walking towards his group. There was still something bothering him about Erica ignoring his calls.

Maybe he should…

Scott sighed as he put a fist hand under his chin with his elbow on his knee. He was bored out of his mind listening to his coach. He felt a pair of eyes on him and glanced in the direction of the owner.

It was one of the new kids trying out lacrosse. _What was his name?_ He tried to remember after Coach Finstock made them all introduce themselves to the newbies and nice versa. _Ian Miller._ His name flashed through Scott's mind.

Ian was actually already accepted onto the team, Scott didn't remember Coach Finstock giving them an explanation but the only one Scott could come up with is that Ian impressed Finstock somehow.

But none of that explained why Ian was glaring at him like that.

Scott turned away, not intimidated but not in the mood to get into whatever the guys problem was, his friend, Sam, who was sitting at a table alone, soon caught his attention. He looked like he was drawing in his book.

Things were still slightly tense between them, Sam wasn't outright saying it but Scott knew Sam was upset with him. He _knew_ Sam and Sam was never one to really hold his tongue so it surprised him that Sam hadn't already confronted him for whatever it was he was angry about.

When Coach Finstock dismissed them, he saw Isaac glance in Sam direction and knew the blonde was going to make his way over to him.

Quickly moving, wanting to talk to Sam alone, Scott quickly stood and walked over to the two seated table and sat on the other side of it.

Green eyes blinked, surprised, when Sam lifted his head and saw Scott sitting there. "Uh, hey." The werewolf greeted with an awkward smile.

"Hey, yourself." Sam responded casually as he dropped the pencil into the center of the pages before closing the book before Scott could get a good look at it. "Finstock letting you guys go?"

"Only for a few minutes, then he'll finish and then we can go." Scott corrected.

Sam tried to show sympathy for Scott but only ended up snickering. "Sorry, sorry." He apologized when Scott pouted. "It's just, he's actually insane."

"Right?" Scott bit his lip after they sat in a moment of silence. "This is strange, why is this strange?" Scott asked.

"What?"

"Us, this…" he wavered his hand between the two of them as if to emphasize. "it's like we're strangers just meeting and I don't know why."

Sam frowned and Scott could almost see his walls slamming up. "I don't get what you mean, Scott, there's nothing wrong."

"Just tell me what it is that I did to make you angry."

"I'm not angry." Sam insisted with a smile but Scott could see it was slightly forced. "Let's not talk about this here." Sam added quietly.

"So, there's something to talk about?"

"God, when did you become my wife?" Sam huffed crossing his arms over his chest, green eyes flashing with impatience.

"I just want to know what I did."

"You tell me."

"I don't know!"

Sam shrugged his shoulders and leaned back into his seat. "Then what reason would there be for me to be angry?" he asked.

Scott groaned combing fingers through his hair. "Fine, but if there were something bothering you, you'd tell me right?"

"Sure." Sam shrugged.

That didn't fill Scott with confidence. "It's just…I miss you, Sam." Conflict entered Sam's eyes and the witch bit his bottom lip. "I haven't seen you in months and you're back but I still feel like you're gone."

Sighing out of his nose, Sam opened his mouth to respond when a piercing whistle cut through the air. "Alright, boys, lets get back into it! Move it!" Coach Finstock called for them.

Scott nearly groaned aloud when Sam closed his mouth and began gathering his things. "I'll see you later, Scott." Sam said as he slung his backpack of his shoulder and grabbed his umbrella. "Tell Isaac I'll be back to pick him up."

"I can drive him." Scott offered.

Sam nodded his head in thanks. "Alright, see you later?" He asked as he walked away, not really wanting to hear Scott's response. He could, literally, feel Scott's frustration.

"Sure."

As Sam walked out of Dreux and quickly opened his umbrella. He began walking towards the direction he parked his car in. He couldn't hear much over the pounding rain and it made him a little anxious. As Sam turned a corner, he felt it.

Love.

His entire body became warm despite the cold rain pouring onto him. He turned his head in the direction it was radiating from and saw a couple getting out of the car. A blonde man and dark haired female, they were giggling and couldn't keep their hands off one another as they tried to get into the building.

Sam turned away from them, feeling his face heat up at the sight of them. _That was…strong._ He thought a little frazzled by the intense emotion he felt from them. _How am I feeling that?_ And then he thought about it. _I felt their love…has that been what's been happening all day? Have I been feeling other people's emotions?_ He wondered and instantly knew that the answer was yes. _That's new._

He wondered if his grandmother dealt with anything like this. Was it a new power? Was it just a temporary ability? Would it get easier to control? He, then, wished he had his grandmother here to answer these questions. _She'd probably give me some vague answer._ He chuckled.

 _I guess there's one place I can find the answers I'm looking for._

He immediately began walking again, his thoughts swirling around the new ability he discovered.

Mostly wondering whether it was a blessing or a curse.

Back in Dreux's, the doors slammed open causing everyone to turn and watch as a soaking wet Stiles Stilinski strutted inside the warm building with confidence never seen in the young man before. Scott blinked as Stiles took a seat next to him, not affected by his wet state. "What's up, buddy?" he greeted with a large smile.

Scott stared at his friend for a moment. There was something wrong but he couldn't put his finger on it. Stiles looked normal, better than earlier, with color in his cheeks and a smile on his face but there was a scent clinging to him that made the hairs on Scott's neck stand at attention.

Scott opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by Coach Finstock. "Stilinski!" The man stormed up to them and glared down at him. "What the hell do you think you're doing coming in almost an hour and a half late?" He demanded heatedly. "Someone with your skills really shouldn't skip out on any opportunity to get better."

"And listening to your insane ramblings will somehow help me become better at Lacrosse?" Stiles asked in amusement. His lips twisted up and gave a small chuckle. "That's the best joke I've heard all day and I heard a good one, wanna hear it?" he asked.

Finstock's brows furrowed as his anger rose. "Stilinski-"

Stiles began to tell it anyways. "So, there's this moose and he-"

"Stilinski!"

"Let me finish!" Stiles snapped angrily and crossed his arms over his chest, turning his head away from his coach. "Never mind, you ruined it." He accused and pouted.

Scott watched the two like a tennis match and gulped as Coach Finstock's face began to turn scarlet red. "Stilinski, outside, in fifteen minutes." Their coach grounded out before storming away, muttering curses under his breathe. He paused next to Greenburg and glared down at him. "You too!" he snapped and stormed out before Greenburg could protest.

Scott frowned as he turned to Stiles. "What the heck was that, Stiles?" he asked.

His best friend turned to him with an innocent face and confusion in his eyes. "What?" he asked.

"You know what, why would you antagonize him like that? You know he could stop you from playing this season, hell this year." Scott stated. Stiles scoffed as if that was the most ridiculous thing he ever heard and that made Scott's frown deepen. "Stiles, where have you been?"

"I went home and got changed." Stiles stated offhandedly.

"But didn't change clothes?"

"I did too, this is a different t-shirt." Stiles said pulling the t-shirt underneath his plaid collared shirt and then stood up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go have a little meeting with our coach, I'll try to keep it short." He reached over patting Scott's cheek twice. "Later, gator."

Scott's brows furrowed as he watched his friend walk out of the café. He definitely knew something was wrong. As soon as Stiles touched him, he had to resist the urge to recoil in disgust and that never happened before.

Not only that but he was pretty sure he smelt blood on Stiles. _Was he hurt? Is that why he's acting strange?_ Scott wondered and sighed. Between Sam and Stiles keeping things from him, he'll never know anything. He needed to take action more.

That meant not waiting for Stiles to come back, Scott was pretty sure that Stiles and their coach shouldn't be alone without a mediator anyways. He stood from his seat and walked outside of the café; the rain started up again, falling in sprinkles.

And even through the humidity, Scott could smell it.

Blood.

Someone was bleeding.

Scott quickly followed the scent of the blood behind a dumpster. His eyes widened in shock and surprise at the body of Greenburg sitting on the ground with his back against the building and his head fallen forward, his dark hair blocking his face.

Before kneeling down and pressing a finger to the pulse on his neck, Scott knew that the young man was dead. He couldn't hear a heartbeat nor breathing; Scott sucked in a breath and closed his eyes for a moment, while he and Greenburg rarely spoke, it still upset him to see the guy dead.

That's when it struck him. "Stiles?" He stood up and looked around for his friend. "Stiles?!" he called again, slightly panicked but got no response. "Damn it!" he growled and pulled out his phone before sending a series of texts.

Normally he would go looking for Stiles but he couldn't smell the boy because of the rain, though his scent was lingering but it was already too far-gone to follow. A few minutes later, he heard footsteps coming from behind him and turned to see both of Derek's betas walking up to him.

As they rounded the dumpster, their eyes immediately went to what was radiating blood. Isaac winced and Boyd stared blankly at the dead corpse of their classmate before turning to Scott. "What happened?" Boyd demanded calmly, seemingly unaffected by the death.

"I-I don't know." Scott shook his head, flashes of the dead bodies in the police station last year flickered through his mind and filled him with a dark feeling. He closed his eyes when they began to burn and tried to pull himself together. "I came out here because coach was supposed to be talking to Stiles and Greenburg but this was all I found with no trace of coach or Stiles."

Isaac frowned and walked over to the body before kneeling in front of it. Boyd glanced down at him. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Checking something." Isaac muttered and began checking under Greenburg's clothes.

Scott's eyes flashed. "What the hell, Isaac? Don't touch him!" he said through clenched teeth. "It's a dead body, not a museum."

Isaac rolled his eyes and continued his search before grabbing Greenburg's chin and twisting his head. The blood was still seeping from the wound in Greenburg's neck but not much and the rain was washing away the dried blood. "We should call Sam, he could help us find Stiles."

"Right." Scott nodded. "I sent him a text."

Rubbing his thumb around the boy's neck blindly, Isaac continued until his thumb ran over two marks. Lifting his thumb away and look down at the wound. He frowned. "Huh." He muttered.

"What?"

Boyd moved next to Isaac and instantly saw what caught the blonde's attention. "Huh." He parroted.

" _What_?" Scott asked walking over to them, despite himself, and crouched next to Boyd. He studied the body for a moment but didn't see what they saw. "What is it?"

Isaac ran his thumb over the spot and Scott's eyes widened.

There on the boy's neck was a bite mark. Four parallel holes in the neck. "Something bit him?" he asked incredulously.

"Call Derek." Boyd ordered Isaac, who nodded his head.

 _ **(Elsewhere)**_

Sam walked up the pavement and then stairs to the Martin Household as he reached in his back pocket. He pulled out a key and unlocked the front door before walking in, pocketing the key again. "Lydia?" he called.

He heard a thud come from upstairs and then a door open. He immediately walked towards the stairs as someone rounded the corner and began to come down them only to stop on the second step.

Sam blinked when he found himself staring into the eyes of Allison Argent and forced himself not to make any faces at the sight of her. Instead, he studied her blankly. He hadn't actually paid any attention to the Argent girl during school but looking at her now, he was surprised to see that her hair was cut to her shoulders and dyed a lighter brown color.

Allison tried to not to fidget under the intense was Sam was staring at her. "Hey, Sam." She greeted.

The stare dropped and he frowned. "Is Lydia here? I saw her car parked in the garage." He said backing down the three stairs he ascended.

"She's right here." Lydia answered as she walked around the corner, her long hair straightened and pulled over her shoulders. She moved past Allison and walked down the stairs, the brunette following after her. "What are you doing here?" she asked in a tone that made Sam want to grind his teeth in anger.

"I didn't know I needed any special reason to come see my friend, though with the irrational way you're behaving I'm sure people continue to ask why I put up with you." Sam sneered at her.

Instead of snapping back like Allison was expecting, Lydia scoffed. "Because you'd be lost without me and stuck with those two idiots."

"I'd still have Isaac." Sam pointed out.

"Who?"

Green eyes narrowed at the redhead and he was tempted to say something but bit his tongue. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before exhaling. "I didn't come here to fight, Lydia." He whispered, all he wanted was to fall for a moment. Now that he wasn't being bam bordered with others emotions, he felt tired and like he was about to start crying.

Lydia noticed the look on Sam's face and her stance immediately took a less offensive one. "What happened?" she asked softly.

Sam was about to answer but then realized that he was in unwanted company. He glanced at Allison briefly before looking at Lydia pointedly. "I'd rather not have this conversation in front of her." He stated bluntly

The brunette resisted the urge to roll her eyes; Lydia did no such thing and crossed her arms over her chest. "Sam."

"Lydia."

Rolling her eyes again, Lydia turned to Allison. "Can you wait in the living room for a minute?"

"Yeah, sure." The brunette glanced at Sam, who watched her go.

Sam took a seat on the fourth stair and Lydia sat beside him. She wrapped her arms around his bicep and laid her head on his shoulder. She frowned at how tense he felt but she knew this was what he needed. She could remember all the time he would sneak over to her home when he was upset and crawl into her bed for her to hold him.

"What happened?"

Sam turned, pulling his arm from her grip and wrapped them around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. He buried his face in her hair. "I'm feeling everything." He said, his voice thick with emotions.

"Okay." Lydia said slowly. "I don't have a response for that."

"Who would?" Sam inhaled deeply and exhaled. "Ever since I step foot in Beacon Hills I've been feeling things, at first I ignored it because I thought it was the PTSD messing with me but after a while I began noticing signs until it was literally standing in front of me."

Lydia sat back when Sam released her from his embrace and pulled his backpack from his shoulders to set between his legs. Pulling out his grimoire, Sam began to flicker through the pages of the book until he came to a stop and set the book in Lydia's lap.

The ginger glanced up at Sam for a moment before she began to read the book. " _Empaths are beings who are fully able to interpret and replicate the feelings of others. The empathy can alter said emotions according to will. They are linked to the emotion that surrounds them. There hasn't been any known empathy in centuries but they're out there but they're believed to be hiding in plain sight."_ Lydia lifted her eyes to look at Sam. "You're empathic? Sounds invasive."

Sam snorted. "Like I want to feel the emotions of others, I can barely handle my own emotions, not to mention how my wild emotions affect my powers, what if the weight of other's emotions makes it worse?" he asked and buried his face in his hands.

Lydia didn't have the answer nor did she know how to reassure her friend, so instead of trying, she just wrapped her arms around his arm again and placed her head on his shoulder. He was still tense.

They sat there for a few moments before Allison cut in. "Um, guys, I just got a text from Scott." She stated. Lydia raised a brow turning to her while Sam only groaned in disgust causing Allison to glare at them both. "Not that kind of text, Stiles is missing."

Both Lydia and Sam sat up straight and stared at her for a moment.

Lightning flashed outside before thunder followed with a loud clap.

 _ **(End)**_

 _ **Hey, guys, I know it's been a while since I updated and I'm sorry. My job has been keeping me busy but I promise to try and update a lot more.**_

 _ **Anyways, this chapter is building up to the big blow out that is going to happen.**_

 _ **Stiles nearly attacked his friend but then attacked two other students. Do you think that he attacked Greenburg? And where is Stiles and Finstock? Sam found out he's an empath and is having a hard time dealing with it. Erica is alright, or is she? Allison and Sam finally talk, a little.**_

 _ **Next chapter, shit literally hits the fan and that's the starting point of when things begin to fall apart.**_

 _ **Also, we get to meet Stiles pairing, an OC, and I honestly can't wait for that.**_

 _ **OOH! I can't wait for you guys to read the next chapter! See you soon!**_


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